Hell yes.

Why I love teaching . . .

So we're reading an essay about male beauty in advertising, and I had everyone bring in an attractive man in a print ad to post on the board. We are looking at the gallery o' hotties in class, and I point to a picture of Vin Diesel. I said, "He isn't that pretty, is he? And yet there is something kind of hot about him. He's almost like this" and I wrote on the board "jolie-laid."
[For those of you non-Francophones, that's "pretty/ugly," a.k.a "ugly sexy" i.e. John Malkovich.]

So, having written that on the board, I said, "Does anyone have French? What does this mean?"

And the football player in the front row said, "Is that getting laid with Angelina Jolie?"

I have NEVER laughed so hard in a college classroom in all my life. I cried, I laughed so hard. Even he knew that probably wasn't what the term meant, but God bless him for saying it anyway.

Free Rice

Just try to stop.... Click here, but don't say you haven't been warned.

Fog... nature's Photoshop.

Either that, or God finally got sick of looking at the smoldering industrial hell of Bridgeport:

"amusing"

This one caught my eye under Blogs of Note on Blogger Dashboard today. After checking out a few posts, I deemed it entertaining enough to share.

The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks

Re: How old are we, again?

This morning, I was 17.

On my way to my school for my 9:30 class, I decided it was a Strangeways, Here We Come morning, considering that that Smithsian Schwanengesang was released 20 years ago. So, I was driving, listening to "Paint a Vulgar Picture" and recalling how much a part that album was of fall '87 and crap with Corey and weirdness and losing Uncle Mike and all the other merde of that season--but also of Kla & me prepping for our appearance on public access TV to talk about apartheid (remember?) and her putting her hand on my arm and saying, "I touched you at the sound check."

Just yards from the exit ramp off the Merritt, an overpowering wave of nostalgia ambushed me. And Jennie wept.

I am not going to say that cyclical hormones weren't a contributing factor, but still . . .

La Recherche du temps perdu indeed.

(Not) Made in China, part 2

Purchased today:

Leather-bound 2008 Weekly Planner. Made in China? Nope, handcrafted by our Down East friends in Bar Harbor, Maine. And carried by Borders no less.

1 Magazine. Made in China? I doubt it--most magazines like this are printed in US for distribution reason. Probably at one of our many friends RR Donnelly.

Tri-Color Ink cartridge. Made in China? Nope. France (Tri-color, get it?)? Nope. Singapore, actually. And it included one of those self-paid return envelopes which I believe is less about Hewlett-Packard wanting to recycle and more about them not wanting me to re-use the ink cartridge.

2 bottles wine. Made in China? God, I hope not. California.

A Conversation

A conversation between me and my mother, which occurred last night:

Mom: Did Michaela post anything about Monhegan Island on KaekiKnits? I haven't checked it out in a while.

(Mom loves to read Michaela's travelogues.)

Me: Yeah-- oh wait, I'm not sure, I haven't looked in a while. I was thinking of the post that's on the blog we're all contributing to, with the pictures of all our snacks.

Mom: Huh?

Me (sheepishly, wishing I hadn't thought aloud): Well, see, we're driving to Port Clyde, and Stephen starts pulling out and displaying all the snacks they brought. And then we decided (at Michaela's suggestion, I think) that it would be a great idea to take pictures of all the snacks. So he handed them all to Michaela, one at a time, and took closeups of each. And then he posted them in one long strip on the blog.

Mom: (Bursts out laughing) I'm sorry, how old are you guys again?

Me (protesting): Yeah, but we have fun!

Mom: Yes, yes you do, I'll give you that.

I love my Mom.

F-U, DMV.

1st trip to the DMV in Bridgeport, 10:30AM to 11:30AM:
Filled out forms, attempting to transfer auto registration from MA to CT.

Problem: Registration transfer impossible without first obtaining a CT driver's license.

Requirements for obtaining license: Birth certificate or passport, proof of residency.

Location of these items: at home.

2nd trip to the DMV in Bridgeport, 12:30PM to 5:15PM:

Time spent waiting in a crowded back room to go up to a counter, look into a pair of goggles and answer five questions, constituting the state's official vision test: 3.5 hours.

Time elapsed for vision test: 25 seconds.

Time spent waiting to pay and get license photo taken: 1.5 hours.

Time elapsed for photo, printing, laminating and delivery: 3 minutes.

Total time: 6.5 hours
Total spent: $117

Beauty part: I still have to go back tomorrow to take care of the original issue, the registration. And pay more fees.

Me: all set with bureaucracy for next several years.

Hell: Connecticut.

Made in China

I bought a pair of shoes today (black, Oxford-style Rockports. My old shoes, Eccos, or as I like to call them, pieces of crap, were causing intense pain to my feet and legs. But I digress) and to no surprise at all they were made in China. And so was the box that it came in. And the Macy's bag that the box was put in was also made in China. So begins, methinks, the making of a list.

Things made in China that drift through my daily life and that, undoubtedly, caused untold ecological and human harm:

black, Oxford style Rockport shoes
Cardboard box
Macy's shopping bag

Please feel free to add.

Pinney ≠ Apron

I think what ya got there is yer basic frilly apron. Like a Donna Reed kinda thing.

These are the pinneys of my youth:



(JR says: "Ooh, make some snarky comment about how she obviously didn't pay attention in gym class!")

Pinny Girl

For your amusement, check out this photo-documentary evidence of the yarn-dying class I took recently at The Point. (I felt positively gleeful to play with yarn and colors while wearing a pinny...now I want to break out my sewing machine and make one for when I dye wool at home. I haven't decided whether I'm frightened about this yet or not).

CSOD?

"Huggably cute. Nightmarishly lethal."

TSOD informs me that he's smitten. Which is saying something, coming from a miniature force of mortality who has no actual heart.

Photos from Maine!

Click here to see the full set of photos from Port Clyde and Monhegan. (You can view as a slideshow by clicking the "View as Slideshow" link but I didn't want to inflict that on anyone as a default).

All I can say is that the only thing that Manhattan and Monhegan have in common is that both words start with the letter "M". Alas.

So...

...did everyone lapse into some kind of food-coma on Monhegan, never to blog again? How was it?

Eating our way through Maine

So, we are on our way to Monhegan Island and, of course, we have all brough more stuff than we will possibly need or will use (including my entire bag of optics and camera equipment). And info this category comes an entire L.L. Bean bag full of food. A brief demonstration: